Death, Sex, and Movie Sets
by NightingaleNightThief
Summary: Things start to go awry on a movie set, forcing Sam, Dean, and Cas to have a closer look. But when things seem normal, are they? In an attempt to get more information, Dean and Cas join the cast to better investigate. Little did they know the two stars they played were acting as lovers. & who's killing everyone anyways? Bad summary, but you can deal with it. Destiel. Rated for sex.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: First chapter is short. Sorry, not sorry. More to come, don't worry. Yes, this is my first SPN fic (On this site at least) so for those of you new to me: Don't flame. I won't like you, and I'll openly say it. If you have something constructive to say, you're welcome to, as long as it is said in a nice way. Don't ask me when this takes place, because I honestly have no idea. More to come. Promise. **

**Warnings: I'll only post this here on the first chapter. Rated M for, you guessed it, man sex. Destiel to be exact. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own it. Not so unfortunately. The show is amazing as it is. & Dean and Cas should probably have sex in season 9, though. I'm just throwing that out there.**

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**Death, Sex, and Movie Sets**

"This is a bad idea, Dean."

Castiel's eyes were emotionless as they swept over the various cop cars and uniformed men. Dean brushed the front of his suit off, checking for dirt that wasn't there.

"Nah. We've done this hundreds of times, Cas. They won't suspect a thing." Dean spoke as he continued to stride towards the movie set, where people were bustling, shouting orders, or flicking their eyes about nervously. Cas lingered behind him for a moment before walking quickly.

"No, you've done this a hundred times. I've done this exactly-"

Dean cut him off. "Look, if you're too scared, you can wait by the car. Now, if you're done holding me up, princess." Dean cocked a brow and continued moving. He'd fallen so far behind he couldn't even see the back of Sam's head anymore. Cas stood for a moment, contemplating. Finally he decided he wouldn't let Dean go alone.

"Knew you'd come around." Dean muttered as he stepped through the police tape. He quickly flashed his badge at a security guard who nodded him through. Castiel fumbled with his own before getting the okay as well.

"Are you the director?" Dean could hear Sam ahead and finally broke through the throng of people to find him standing before a balding man, wide around the middle, who kept glancing nervously between the Winchesters and Castiel. Finally he nodded.

"My name is Mike. I thought the police were wrapping this up. They said-"

"We're not police." Sam cut in. "We're FBI."

The man stared blankly. "Is there a difference? You're still interrupting the shooting of a very important film, now if you would-"

"Mind if we have a look around?" Dean cut the man off once more. Mike looked exasperated.

"I just said-"

"Didn't think so."

The man didn't get in their way as they moved behind him, deeper into the house they were using for shooting.

"What are we looking at, Sammy?"

Sam poked his head in the doorway of what appeared to be a bedroom with boom mics leaned against a wall before reemerging. "So far? Two deaths, both actors, both immediately replaced. Labeled as accidents, due to no real evidence of foul play being found."

Dean brushed his nose and looked behind him at Castiel, who was busy eyeing the mic suspended above his head.

"Hey, hey. Don't touch it."

Cas blinked innocently like his hand wasn't halfway to the piece of sound equipment. Dean turned back to Sam. "Anything special?"

Sam shrugged. "Not really, just... dead people."

"Male? Female? Organs turned to dust? What?"

Once more, Sam shrugged. "A man and a woman. The woman was found in her dressing room electrocuted by her hair straightener and the man was found dead, a gash on his forehead from the vanity table. He struck his temple."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Two dead people, two accidents. Both on the same movie set? I'm not buying it. Something is going on."

Sam chewed his lip. "Maybe... Maybe this time, they are just accidents, you know? I mean, they happen."

"What about the movie?" Dean persisted. "Anything special?"

Sam sighed. "Just a remake of something from the seventies. A horror parody. One that's meant to be stupid."

Dean snorted. "They're all stupid."

He heard a crash behind him and Castiel immediately defended himself. "I didn't do it."

Dean turned around and pursed his lips. "Then who did, Cas?" The man pointed inside a room and kept his innocent demeanor. A woman's laugh flowed through the door before she did. All legs.

"Sorry. It really wasn't him. I'm just such a klutz." She offered her hand and a smile to Dean, who returned both gestures.

"You uh, work here or something?"

Sam sighed, seeing that look come into Dean's eyes. Castiel, a bit oblivious, just stared openly. The woman nodded and smiled again as she released Dean's hand. "Yes. Yeah, I work sound tech." She laughed like it was a joke and Castiel looked even more confused than normal.

"Did you know the two actors, miss?" Sam asked, giving Dean a look of his own. Dean made a face at him and retreated.

"Yeah, so sad isn't it? I mean, they were such lovely people." She sighed sadly and teared up a bit. Sam looked awkward.

"Are you okay?"

She began to cry harder and hugged him and he began to wish he hadn't asked. "There, there." He awkwardly patted her shoulder while Dean just raised a brow.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, it's just... Micah. I was seeing him for a while." She dabbed her eyes. Dean furrowed his brow.

"Micah is the guy?"

She nodded and swallowed hard. "I shouldn't be dithering about. I have work to do. Thank you for you time mister..."

Sam quickly responded, "Mullinax." and waved her off. Dean raised his brow again.

"Mullinax?"

Sam shoved him. "Shut up. I had to think fast."

"It's a shame you had to think at all." Castiel quipped from behind him. Dean laughed.

"I'm tired of your attitude rubbing off on him." Sam muttered as he made his way further into the movie set. Dean clapped Cas on the shoulder.

"You did good, Cas."

Cas, of course, had turned his attention once more to the various pieces of equipment around him. Sam reappeared and sighed.

"I don't see anything right now. Just two dead people and a girl who cried."

Dean pursed his lips and crossed his arms. "Then we stay."

Cas knocked a vase over and Dean sent him a scolding glare.

"He said it was a closed set." Sam tried to reason.

"Maybe not," Mike spoke from behind Dean. The man's face showed he'd only heard the last bit of their talk, which was all fine. "I need two people to take the places of Liz and Micah."

His eyes bounced between Dean and Castiel. "You boys look like you'd be good on the big screen. Ever acted?"

Dean had to suppress a laugh as he replied, "Mostly role play. Live action."

Castiel didn't get it. "I watch television."

Mike blinked at him and his serious expression. "Okay... Okay, you any good?"

Dean nodded. "I like to think so."

Even Sam was smiling by then. Mike sighed, ran a hand over his clipboard and handed both Dean and Cas something. A script.

"Study, be here by nine tomorrow morning. We shoot seen three first, six is going to be on Tuesday. We'll have to start the whole production over... Money... People..."

He walked off mumbling to himself about the things those deaths had cost him. Sam sighed and snatched the script.

"There's nothing wrong."

Dean snatched it back. "Oh, well. If there isn't something wrong I get to be a star. This is a win, win, Sammy."

Cas stared down at the script a confused look on his face. Dean passed it off. After all, it was nothing so unusual.

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**A/N: Alright. There be the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed, review, blah blah. Did anyone else start to ship Crowley and Sammy after Crowley shouted that he just wanted to be loved? **

**Cause I did.**

**~Nightingale.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: SECOND CHAPTER AW YUS. Sorry it took some years. School. You know how it is. But I have made two new friends. :D They're wonderful and Destiel shippers and wonderful and funny and wonderful. **

**Do read. Do enjoy.**

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**Chapter Two: That's a Problem**

"Cas, what are you doing?"

The ex angel sat, eyes intent. Dean shifted beside him.

"Why does she keep doing that? Butts are not sexy, Dean."

Dean looked at the television, where several scantily dressed women paraded around, dancing.

"Well... Yeah, they are."

Cas shook his head. "No, Dean. Think about it. It's mounds of muscle and fat with a giant crack. How is that sexy? Not to mention, they-"

"Okay, Cas. I get it. Please stop talking."

Castiel shot Dean a look. "Well, you're happy today." he muttered. Dean leaned back against the couch. Maybe he was a bit snappy. So what? Being an actor was stressful.

His fingers slipped over the front of the script. Honestly, he hadn't opened it since the night he'd received it. He felt Cas slap his hand aside and reach for the script. Once Cas had it in his hands, he smoothed the cover.

"You wrinkled it." He flipped open the small booklet, eyes scanning. The angel felt his brow furrow and he frowned. "Hey, Dean?"

The hunter stood without a glance back, making a non-committed noise. Cas leaned forward. "Have you not looked? I think that maybe our characters are-"

"I'm going to bed. Don't give yourself a complex." Dean slammed the door and cut Castiel off.

**~l~l~l~l~**

To say the set was in chaos might get the biggest understatement award.

People ran back and forth, occasionally breaking the things they rushed past. The cops were still stationed at every door, nodding to Dean and Sam as the pushed through the blocks surrounding the actors and workers. The set was outside that day, unfortunately for the three men in FBI suits.

"Why are you not dressed yet?!" The director's voice was even louder than the people around him, which was definitely saying something. Sam crossed his arms and shot Dean a look, who stuck his tongue out in return. Cas stood behind Sam, afraid to even breath amongst the chaos, lest he break something.

"I wasn't aware we were in today's scene." Dean returned. Sam face palmed. Of course Dean would be in today's scene. He'd be in every day's scene. He was the star. They both were.

The director's face portrayed Sam's thoughts. "What? You're lucky you're pretty. Go outside, take a left. There's the wardrobe department. It's set up inside some old cafe or some- HEY! What are you doing?!" The director stormed off, face red.

"To the left, to the left..." Dean padded off singing, Cas close behind. The wardrobe house was hot and cramped. Clothes closed in on Dean from all sides, and he had to slap aside a few frilly skirts to get through.

"Oh, hello!" A familiar voice pierced Cas's concentration, forcing him to let go of a rack, allowing it to come back and nail him in the face. The woman from before slid out in front of Dean.

"A regular renaissance woman, yeah? Running sound and dress?" She bowed at Dean's compliment or maybe at his smile. Cas wasn't sure.

"I suppose so," she agreed, pulling her pencil skirt down her thighs, appearing modest or maybe drawing his eyes to the toned muscles that flexed beneath the skin. "You boys here for dressing?"

Cas nodded slowly, pushing past her. "Can I keep my coat?" The woman's face twisted up.

"Um, no? That's not at all your character." She shook her head and pushed past him, digging around until she pulled out slim denim jeans and button down blue shirt. Attached to the hanger was a beanie. Dean snorted.

"Woah, Cas. Your character is a douche." He smiled at the blushing angel, who angrily reached for the clothes and stomped to a changing room.

"Here's yours." Dean's wasn't much better. A purple tee with dark _skinny jeans?_

"We look like writers." Dean grumbled. The woman blinked.

"You... You are. Haven't you read the script? You and Cas play two love-"

"Yeah, okay. I'll glance at it later." He took the clothes and moved to the dressing room beside Cas. Only curtains hung from the ceiling separated the "rooms".

Cas's grunts went through the thin fabric. Dean turned his face. "You okay in there?"

Cas grumbled. "These pants are sort of... Tight."

Dean grunted as he shoved his legs through. "Now I know that feel." He pulled the tee over his head and turned to look in the mirror hung on the only real wall. He looked like a total douche. A sexy one, but still a douche. He parted the curtain and stepped out.

"Hey. Cas, are you-" He felt his throat tighten as Cas stepped out, looking adorably hipster in his clothing. The pants hugged him close, showing off his delectable booty. His eyes went from there to the form fitted button shirt, then to Cas's face, which was of course flushed.

"I don't like this, Dean." He crossed his arms and the shirt rode up in the front, slightly showing his epic hipbones. Dean adjusted his tee.

"Come on, it isn't nearly as bad as mine." He spread his arms and Cas quickly assessed his clothes, mentally shuddering at the tight fits.

"Please. It... Nothing is this bad, Dean."

"Oh, man." Sam's voice cut through their very manly moment, right before a flash. "That's going in the scrapbooks."

Dean snarled and lunged for his phone, only to miss and go sailing into a rack of clothes. Sam grinned at the picture, eyes bright. The way the two were looking at each other, all bright eyes and flushed cheeks, made them look exactly like boyfriends.

Sam supposed that was a good thing. They were meant to play lovers, after all.

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**A/N: OHHHH Sammy snuck a look at the script, y'all! Anyways, I'm sorry it's short but it's better than nothing. I'm also sorry for typos but not really. I'm too lazy to go back over this. Are y'all enjoying season nine?! I AM. NEW EPISODE TOMORROW. YEEAAAHHHHH MY BODY IS READY.**

**Do review. Do admire Misha and his epic hipbones. Much love.  
~Nightingale.**


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